


AmeriPan Secret Santa 2018 - Melodic Comfort

by BearBooper



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, M/M, Prompt Fic, Rockstar AU, ameripan secret santa 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 08:26:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearBooper/pseuds/BearBooper
Summary: AmeriPan Secret Santa Gift exchange 2018! Written for @my-tiny-stars on Tumblr <3Contains: Rockstar AU, fluff, cute glaring and dorky Alfred.





	AmeriPan Secret Santa 2018 - Melodic Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my-tiny-stars on Tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my-tiny-stars+on+Tumblr).



> For @my-tiny-stars on Tumblr  
> Merry Christmas! Apologies, I'm not so good with some prompts and I underestimate how busy holiday season would be, I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> \- Bear

“Oh, sHIT!” Blonde hair tumbled out of a comfortable position out on to the floor, his body rolling off the couch ungracefully with his beloved acoustic guitar following. The door had swung quite wildly and unannounced to Alfred’s surprise. the pestering voice of his agent berated his blatant disregard for their tightly packed schedule and ruined the strumming he’d been zoning out to.

“For god's sake Alfred! I told you to pack up and get in the van-” A man dressed too nice and formal for the messy dressing room had barged in.

“And I will Artie, Calm down, I just needed to chill out for a second, the others can go ahead” Alfred had stood up, dusting off the air of tense annoyance, and with a quick pat of Arthur’s shoulder quickly gathered his bags. A slight pout as he picked up his dropped instrument and checking for any scratches of the old wood. They had been travelling so far and it was getting exhausting; he wouldn’t trade anything for his musical career but he didn't realise how grating he would find the lifestyle to be- his simple needs and his simple wants had grown exponentially after a taste of success, but he still yearned for some quiet downtime. Especially as Christmas grew nearer and the nagging texts from his family exploded on his screen.

“I don’t think you can expect them to leave without the main singer, do you? For once get your head out of your arse and have some decency for your bandmates.” Alfred chuckled at the quip as they pushed through the hallways, each dressing room door lamenting their exit back onto the road, It had been a good show but the performers were deadly tired of the lights and needed to return home if not for a quick break. “Honestly, I doubt Gilbert has any decency at all, let alone to c-”

“I Heard That you yank!” The rest of the band were already zooming to get out, and their other guitarist had been leaning on the back of their tired weary van, Gilbert, smoking haphazardly as Antonia had been lazing around in shotgun. Matthew, their drummer and Alfred’s brother, had somehow passed out in the expanse of luggage and musical equipment at the back of the open van, somehow undeterred by the painful cramped position. 

Gilbert smirked as he greeted the lead singer, flicking his head over to the sleeper before lowly mourning “Your brother sleeps like a bear Al, It’s insane”. Alfred zipped up his leather jacket as the air felt cold with winter’s pulse, warming his hands before answering “Yeah well so will I once we get home.” Gibert Tutted as he extinguished his cigarette, before hopping in the back with Mattie, shutting the van back and cradling his fellow bandmate as they got ready to leave; Alfred was about to remind Gil there was still some occupied space in the actual back seats but that thought disappeared as he watched his bandmate sneak a genuine tender gaze for his brother. He wouldn’t admit it but he wished someone would look at him that way too.

“On the road dudes!” his voiced chimed as he pulled himself out of the stupor, gleefully pushing Arthur to drive as he climbed into the van. He’d hadn’t been home for a while.

* * *

 

Alfred’s hometown was always a secret hideaway of isolation, all of the band had grown up in the comforts of sleepy suburbs and needed a bit of the outside world. It truly was a small town, and it came to be no surprise that the moment that their band had hit the soundwaves and gained such a solid fanbase their entire town made them into a much bigger symbol of importance. It was flattery at most, as his neighbours- some who used to even tell them off for performing too loud in their dingy garage- congratulated them on new albums, or even old schoolmates suddenly “dropping by” to remind him of the time they were “friends” as he unpacked the van. Matthew had already stumbled in, carrying boxes of god-knows-what as their mother greeted them with a high pitched squeal of delight. 

“Hey Ma, I’m gonna grab some coffee, do you want me to bring you some?” It was silly, however, the first thing he wanted as he finished up settling back in was a cup of good joe from his childhood cafe. He had a soft spot for the recognisable walls of that building as it was their first venue for a show as well as the cafe he’d used to write his first songs in. Many of their greatest pieces were scribbled and etched upon the old oak tables. His Mother had decided against it but ushered the beach blonde to go ahead and bring some home for Matthew and their father. 

Shedding out of the tacky leather jacket for something more practical as he stepped into the white snowy walkways, the pavement barely cleared with salt and an abundance of snowmen scattered in the various tendered gardens. The cold weather nipped at his cheeks as he finally entered the tiny coffee shop.

“Al! You’re back!” The voice of the cafe’s owner welcomed him in, that bright Italian voice booming, and waved brightly as he made his way to his usual spot: the couch right near the back wall corner, only surprised as he was beaten to it by a very humbug looking guy whose jet-black hair seemed to be buried deep in a book. The Asian man shifted not noticing Alfred’s presence and before he could say anything Feli had already attempted to explain.

“Antonio told me you guys had arrived but I assumed you’d want to stay home- Kiku just wanted to take the seat today…” Alfred curiously glared at the man, accidentally drawing him out of his book-induced mantra. The stranger had looked up confused as to why Feli had led lead some man to his table. Dark brown eyes scanned him, and the pale complexion of the man slightly flushed with awkwardness as he tried to ignore the two.

The American had gulped. At first, he was riddled with slight annoyance but as those eyes had reached his own his heart skipped a beat. Kiku- or whatever this guy’s name was- was gorgeous, and it irked Alfred as he knew everyone in town. He practically could name all 134 of every citizen that lived here- he did not know this beauty. He would have remembered him. The words had erupted from his throat unconsciously as he had jutted his hand out suddenly-

“Hey there man, I’m Alfred- you might know me as that sing-” 

“あらいやだ。 あなたは本当にかわいいです、そしてそれは本当に気を散らすものです。” a voice chirped out with a bit of a red tinge to their cheek as they tried to avoid eye contact but shaking his hand sheepishly. He coughed a little before switching to English in what Alfred considered was the most soothing accent he’d heard in a while: “I… am Kiku Honda. Friend of...Wang Yao.”

The American bright blue eyes widened at the last comment- he knew Yao! They were classmates and news in town was that he had opened a local catering service as well as a small restaurant. “Awesome! Could I join you for some coffee?” As if processing the words carefully, Kiku had paused and then suddenly computed the request, quickly shuffling to the side of the couch, not exactly used to sharing his space with someone- albeit someone very attractive in those jeans- who he barely knew. He quietly 4explained he was still trying to get used to English but it seemed to not phase the American as they both sipped their coffee. 

The Japanese man had been donning a slightly-too-large yet suiting black sweater, hiding a dress shirt, and was sporting a weird look of uncertain eagerness. Alfred had propelled himself into a bunch of questions; investigation concluding that Kiku had moved to support Yao in his business, that he was used to snow as Japan had a lot, that his favourite colour was red and that he had a dog called Pochi that looked like an over-puffed fluffball. As Alfred had been in the middle of a very entertaining rant about dogs They were interrupted:

“Are you THE Al?! Can I please have a photo?” A teenage girl had wormed her way towards the couch area, looking ready to pounce on Alfred as she gleamed with excitement- Alfred himself softened, but his demeanour changed: his natural confidence seemingly replaced with a more artificial bravado.

“Sure thing doll, Anything for a fan” Kiku hated to admit but the little wink Alfred gave her as they posed for a picture not only made the girl swoon but inside he was too smitten about the man. Biting his lip either from slight jealously or general intolerance for interruptions, Kiku was confused, he tilted his head in question of the attention his company had received. Alfred seemed to pick up on it immediately, and the black haired boy did not miss the subtle drop in shoulders and sigh that Alfred had released as he finished up his short encounter.

“I’m uh...well I’m a performer, quite uh popular. Famous...enough for a tour I guess.” This did not seem to faze the shorter one, In fact, Alfred was surprised at the lack of a reaction. He questioned Kiku whether or not he had heard of them but apparently, Kiku was just as clueless to his music as a penguin was to the desert. Mixed feelings were churned up; on one side he was happy the man did not know of his act- the stage lights and blaring speakers portrayed him as some confident rocker- his childhood acoustic guitar replaced with an amplified electric, his voice no longer singing gentle love songs but rougher more energetic tunes. It meant no matter what he could be the old Alfred- yet it bothered him there was no easy way to charm the stranger...He was so used to having it easy with all the fans throwing themselves at him.

“Would...you like to hear me play? I mean my guitar’s at home but it’s only a short walk..” before he knew it Kiku had jumped up, uncharacteristically impatient as he had grabbed Alfred’s arm- they fumbled as they awkwardly moved apart only realising their closeness, their attraction to each other quite clear. In silence, they made their way out, and whereas Alfred was a consistently continuous chatterbox, Kiku hummed content to just listen- the Langauge difficulty didn’t seem so bad as he intervened in conversation every now and again- asking questions that fueled the blonde’s animated demeanour. Giggles were exchanged as Alfred nearly tripped on some snow, Kiku with his Christmas themed beanie almost slipping as he tried to hide his amusement at the clumsy singer- you’d think someone who’d performed in front of many crowds would not falter in front of one person.

Alfred felt good. Good with Kiku by his side and despite how they’ve only known each other for approximately 3 hours, it felt as if they clicked much more than he’d ever felt with another. The two had finally gotten to his the front lawn of his house, the Christmas lights shining and blinking as they signalled hello to the pair. Kiku had already started walking up to the porch before Alfred suddenly yelled,

“NO Keeks!! This way!” the unwarranted nickname made Kiku’s soul jump in endearment as he was pulled along by Al, The American bent down to pull at the metal handles of his garage entrance. They both squeezed into the room, Al slamming the gate down once more before turning on a light switch. The room was illuminated with fairy lights and janky lightbulbs, showcasing how the garage had been decorated to be a practice room of sorts. Beanbags and a tatted couch slumped in the corner, pictures and poster plagued the brick walls and the shelves were overflowing to the brim of a mix of mixtapes, CDs and magazines.

“I know it’s freezing in here- the only downside to my hideout- but there are some blankets around.” Kiku had been so entranced by the room’s glory and obvious passion for music making that he nearly ignored the blistering cold of the unheated room. Buried within the pillows, Kiku pulled out a woven blanket and snuggled into the soft bouncy couch as Al went out quickly through a connecting door, only to come back a few minutes later with some hot chocolate for the two of them. Mug in Hand Kiku silently observed Alfred messing about, frantically looking for his Guitar- only noticing it had been placed on some random counter near an old busted set of drums.

“So- Uh… should I do merry Christmas or...wait no-”

“早くやれよ、I don’t...have a preference.” Al light up, his nervousness made him feel like he was serenading someone for the first time- and to be quite honest..it genuinely felt like he WAS serenading someone for the first time; this was the first time his performance felt extremely pivotal.

Settling for something less traditional, he chose ‘Fool’s Holiday’, mainly because after years of not feeling like a first impression mattered- it was exhilarating having to truly think about what he wanted to say to Kiku (Not that he was sure it would translate well anyway). Regardless his hands started strumming voice scratchy with nerves as he witnessed the interested looks of his one-person audience.

The melody melted into the room, and Kiku had moved out of his seat to stand up right in front of Alfred- slinking his way somehow so gracefully that Al almost stopped singing in awe. They basked in each other's attention, the song almost ending as their eyes wandered to each other’s lips...

“....til you've got forever to spend with me…”

Cold hands had pulled his cheeks close, his body having to crouch a bit to accommodate the shorter person. Kiku had gone on his tiptoes to stop his words midway, chapped lips grazing on the singer’s no-doubt experienced ones. Alfred shed his guitar quickly, not wanting to waste time returning this newfound romance…

Well, maybe he didn’t need music or even mistletoe to find true love after all.


End file.
